


Proud of You

by Pomegrandeur



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Emotional, Grief/Mourning, Hajime really loved her :(, Hinata Hajime is kind of a dick, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Koizumi Mahiru is a good friend, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Mom Friend Koizumi Mahiru, Nanami Chiaki is dead, She does NOT like or trust Komaeda tho, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A WARM-UP, postgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomegrandeur/pseuds/Pomegrandeur
Summary: Hajime is clearly in a bad mood about something and when Komaeda goes to visit him at his cottage, he finds him grieving Chiaki's death. He tries to set aside his self-loathing to comfort him and does a sort of okay job.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime/Nanami Chiaki (past)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Proud of You

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was supposed to be a warm up. I was going to write more smut, but this happened instead. It's just feelings and it's kinda thrown together in places, but it's pretty potently emotional.
> 
> Takes place in the same verse as "Murder Can Be Romantic"

“A bountiful feast, as always, Hanamura.” Hinata sits at one of the tables before breakfast as the food is served. Idly drumming his fingers on the table, he continues to look over at the clock. Nearly 9, more people should be here by now. His brow knits, but he says nothing as the rest of the food is set out. 

“Hey, food’s all here. I can eat, right?” Owari interrupts Hinata’s thoughts, a wide grin on her face. He can’t help but chuckle, having come to expect this attitude from her. He shrugs gently, eyes skipping across Sonia, Tanaka, Koizumi… they’re still missing one person. 

“Don’t forget to focus on protein, Akane. You’ll need plenty of it for the training regimen I have ready for you, today!” Nidai is loud and boisterous but exudes nothing but warmth. Finally, Hajime lets out a sigh of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Yeah, go ahead I guess. I was going to ask you to wait until everyone’s here, but maybe Komaeda isn’t coming.” The room goes uncharacteristically quiet for a split second as everyone stops to think about him. It’s clear from the looks on their faces that they don’t trust him, even a little. It makes Hinata a bit sad, but he can’t blame any of them. The events of the simulation are still fresh in his mind, mismatched eyes narrowed anxiously. 

Akane wastes no time beginning to stuff her face with everything she can find. There was a time when Hinata had felt a sense of disdain at watching her pack away food like this. Now, he simply smiles, enjoying her antics. The drumming of his fingers on the table gets faster, his brow knitting more. At quarter-after-nine, everyone else has given up waiting and has begun to eat. Hajime is staring idly at his hand when he feels a presence beside him. 

“This spot taken?” Mahiru smiles as she sits with one knee in the chair, pulling it closer to Hajime. He’s pulled from his thoughts, smiling back at her even if the action is clearly forced. She sees through him, but doesn’t seem to care.

“Huh? Of course not. Please, go ahead.” Hajime does his best to be polite, knowing that Koizumi may give him a hassle otherwise. After all, he is a boy. He should treat women with respect. He glances back over to the clock before meeting her gaze again. She’s frowning. Uh oh. Hajime hopes he isn’t in trouble with her already. To his amazement, she offers him a fruit from her plate.

“You seem different.” She’s blunt, not bothering to skirt around the issue. Hinata appreciates her for that, even if he doesn’t express it outwardly beyond a tired smile. 

“Do I? Sorry, I hadn’t noticed.” His mind is elsewhere, eyes flicking off in a random direction to keep from looking at her too much. He didn’t want another lecture about staring at girls too much. Since he doesn’t watch her face, he can’t see her concern growing. 

“No need to apologize, I just didn’t think it was very… you, you know?” What he can’t see in her face he immediately feels in her voice. Turning to her, he raises an eyebrow. She half expects him to quip at her about it, but he doesn’t. His eyes are far off, but he wears a tiny smile.

“I guess it is a bit off for me, huh?” He rests an elbow on the table, his cheek leaning into his palm as he looks past her to stare out the window. Instinctively, he turns to glance at the clock again. She’s clearly picking up on this and putting the pieces together. 

“Are you waiting for Komaeda?” She tips her head, smiling to him almost shyly; another gesture that’s unlike her. He immediately snaps his attention back to her, eyes wider than before.

“What? No. Well, I mean-- yes. But only because he’s the only one who isn’t here. He always makes it to breakfast, even if he’s a few minutes late.” He sighs with a weight behind his breath that even he isn’t expecting. Koizumi nods, trying to offer him silent reassurance. Unbeknownst to her, he can tell she knows what’s going on.

“Yeah. Do you want me to go and look for him?” She scoots the fruit closer to him, trying to get him to eat something. He looks down at it and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can answer everyone hears footsteps up the steps. 

Komaeda crests the top, hair even more of a mess than usual with dark circles under his eyes. Everyone quiets when they see him, Mahiru covering her mouth with her hand and glancing back and forth between him and Hinata’s concerned expression. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come!” Komaeda laughs, trying to crack a joke. No one else laughs and he immediately shrinks in on himself a tiny bit. “Come on, it was a joke. What is wrong with all of you this morning? You’re staring at me like I have something on my face. Am I even uglier than usual or something?” 

“Not like you to be this late, is it?” Hinata speaks up first, figuring no one else will break the silence. Komaeda turns to him and lights up when he spots him. Eyes anxiously darting around the room at all the other harsh faces, he hurries over to Hinata and grabs for his arm with both of his. Hajime tenses, unsure of how everyone else will react to sudden contact like this. 

“Sorry, I overslept. Typical of me to inconvenience everyone like this, right? Well, I’m glad that you didn’t wait on account of me. I’d hate to think anyone would let their food get cold because of--” he’s cut off by Hajime yanking him over to the table by his arm.

“Shut up and tell me what you want for breakfast.” He’s gruff, but Komaeda seems completely unbothered by his grip on him, smiling and stumbling along with him backwards. 

“Wow, are you planning on serving mine, Hajime? I really don’t deserve such--” he’s cut off again by being pushed down by his shoulders into the seat Hinata had been occupying moments before. Koizumi noticeably scoots her chair away from him and withdraws the fruit she’d offered Hajime.

“That is not an answer to my question, Komaeda.” Hajime is his typical grumpy self, but everyone can feel that something is different this time. Is he worried?

“I’m sorry. Um… you know, you have good taste. Why don’t you pick something and I’ll eat whatever you give me? I wouldn’t want to trouble you for--” cut off for a third time. 

“Fine, you’re getting fish.” Hajime is in a huff as he goes to fetch two plates. The idle chatter has begun again between various people in the room, Komaeda looking around at everyone. He seems eager, if a bit shy. 

Mahiru wants to get up and move away from him, but doesn’t know how to do it without being blatantly rude. What she won’t admit is that her real reasoning is not wanting him to cause a scene or start insulting himself again because she doesn’t want anything to do with him. Instead, she prepares herself with a deep breath and offers Nagito a fake, but cheery smile. 

“Good morning, Komaeda. You must have been pretty tired to sleep in, that’s unlike you.” She tries to be as sunny as possible, but her unease couldn’t be more noticeable. He turns to her with an unnaturally wide smile. Oh no. She braces herself for it. 

“You noticed? Wow, Koizumi. I’m a little surprised you would even pay attention to scum like me. You’re so kind.” There it is. 

“Oh stop that. Nobody here thinks you’re scum. You’re weird, for sure, but you’re not anything as extreme as scum.” At least she’s being nice. Internally, she questions if he can tell she really doesn’t like him at all. Before the interaction can continue, Hajime returns and sets a plate of food in front of Nagito, sitting down to his other side and setting his own plate down. He’s frowning. 

“You better not be over here hassling Koizumi.” He gruff, but there’s some genuine care in his voice for Mahiru that she picks up on and is quite flattered by. She doesn’t voice it, but she does watch Nagito carefully as he turns to Hajime with that unnatural, creepy grin on his face. Then, she stops and squints. Hajime can see the look on her face and where she’s looking and he feels his blood run cold.

“Nagito, what happened to you?” She tips her head. He looks back over at her.

“What do you mean?” 

“Your neck…” she lifts a finger to point. Komaeda tips his head to the side to expose a series of bruises down his neck and onto his shoulder. They stand out against his pale skin. He smiles, unfaltering.

“Oh, those are from Hajime.” There is no hesitation whatsoever in his voice. She chokes on her drink, stopping to look between them with wide eyes. Hinata looks like he could strangle him for saying it out loud. 

“I see. They’re… they’re bite-marks, right?” She chuckles anxiously. Her eyes flick to Hajime in a way that denotes that there is no way he isn’t going to be forced to explain later. As Hinata wishes he could sink through the floorboards and die right then and there, Komaeda appears bright and chipper. He’s unfazed. 

“Yes, they are. He and I mnnrph--” He’s cut off as Hajime slaps a hand over his mouth to silence him, face bright red. Mahiru’s expression goes from ‘you’re in trouble young man’ to gleeful amusement. 

“Nevermind where they came from. Eat your breakfast or I’ll throw it away.” 

“Oh, I get it. You want me to eat it out of the trash because I’d only be deserving a meal like this if I--” his freedom from Hajime’s hand over his mouth is short-lived. This time, Mahiru is pushing his plate toward him, eyeing him harshly. 

“For the love of god, eat.” She’s over his antics and so is Hajime. He looks between them, unsure as to why they’re both so flustered and exasperated. Regardless, he does as he’s asked and begins to eat. 

Finally, some peaceful silence. 

Once breakfast is finished, everyone is in silent agreement that they’ll help clean up. With so many pairs of hands, the task is over almost as soon as it’s started. Hinata can’t help but glance at Komaeda’s plate as he scrapes it. It’s still almost completely full; he’d barely touched it. His brow knits, but he says nothing about it. Oh well, it’s not his problem. 

Once Hajime returns to his cottage, he sinks down onto his bed, hands feeling the soft blanket beneath them. Truly, his mind still hasn’t come back from the simulation. As he sits there in his cottage in the real world, he has to mentally talk himself out of feeling like he’s still in the killing game. He has something to ground him in times like these, but he’s reluctant to pull it from his pocket where he carries it with him constantly. His hand instinctively reaches for it, holding onto it even if he can’t see it. It’s real. All of this is real. The small, ridged edges of the plastic bite softly into the skin of his finger when he presses down on it. His thumb feels the metal clasp on the back. The priceless trinket makes the shape of a pixelated spaceship. 

There was one person who didn’t make it out of the simulation; someone that he loved. He tries to force the thoughts from his mind, but the more he fights with them the worse they come back with fangs bared. Like wolves, the thoughts surround him, tearing into him. It takes all his strength not to let it wound him, but in truth he’s already lost. Both sides of him ache, one more outwardly than the other. 

He’s nearly about to succumb to another fit of grief and rage when a knocking comes at his door. He’s startled from his thoughts, sitting up. He hadn’t realized he’d even laid down. Grumbling, he slowly gets to his feet and makes his way over to the door to pull it open and see who it is. His heart drops when he finds himself looking up into the grey-green eyes of Nagito. 

“Hello again, Hajime.” Without so much as asking, he lets himself into the cottage, Hinata sputtering and unable to tell him to leave. The nerve of this man…

“What do you want? You can’t just come barging into my cottage, you know. There’s this thing called asking. You should try it sometime.” He’s clearly more agitated than usual, which despite his lack of social skills, Komaeda notices immediately. 

“You’re tense, Hajime.” 

“And you’re bothering me. What do you want?” 

“Hm? Me? Oh, nothing. Well, actually something. But! It can wait. It isn’t important right now, I’d rather help you. Can I help you, Hajime?” He looks so ...hopeful. Absolutely disgusting.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I’m just not in a good mood. That’s all. Now out with it, what did you want?” 

“Ah? Want to go back to sulking then? That’s fine. I’d rather mope than spend time with me, too. Anyway, like I said, it isn’t important. I would just--” Hajime seems hellbent on cutting him off every time he goes into a self-loathing spiral today. 

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut UP. Stop it with the self-loathing! Stop belittling yourself all the time! Don’t you realize how that sounds? How it feels!? I care about you, Nagito. Is that what you needed to hear? Will that get you to stop calling yourself trash over and over!?” Hajime yells, slamming his door shut and turning to Komaeda with gritted teeth and unshed tears in his eyes. The sudden snap and change in demeanor would frighten anyone else, but Nagito watches on unnaturally serene and calm.

“I’m so sorry, Hajime. I won’t do it again. Here, maybe you should sit down?” Komaeda pats the edge of the bed, surprised when he hears the small clicking sound of something solid hitting his metallic palm. He peeks down, lifting his hand slowly and gasps. Chiaki’s hair clip. 

Hajime can already tell he’s seen it and knows he’ll know what’s going on. He wants with everything in him to fight the storm welling up inside him, but for once he lacks the strength. His resolve is broken. His heart is broken. He wants her back and nothing will ever change the fact that she’s gone. 

He’s so busy fighting to keep his tears from spilling that the hand on his shoulder surprises him. Nagito stands over him, face uncharacteristically gentle. There’s no manic grin, no gush of vitriolic self-hatred spewing from his lips; he simply offers a tender smile and his hand. Hajime can’t fight anymore. He takes his hand in his, undeterred by how cold the long, bony fingers are. He squeezes. The hand squeezes back. 

“I’m not always the best with words, but I have somewhat of an understanding of how you feel,” Komaeda begins, leading a crying Hajime back to sit on the edge of the bed. He sits with him, arm over his shoulders. “To lose someone so close to you is one of the most painful things a human heart can bear, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” Hajime’s voice cracks as he answers to break the silence. It’s only just beginning to register that the dam broke and his tears are pouring freely down his face. He doesn’t fight the hug that envelopes him. 

Komaeda is real. He isn’t dead. Hajime reminds himself of that over and over again, but cannot be rid of the images flashing in his mind. As he looks up at Nagito, he sees his face, alive and gently smiling. In his mind, it’s overlaid with flashes of cold, wide, dead, fearful eyes and a mouth bound in tape. He flinches and buries his face in his hands, willing the images to leave him be. 

Somehow, Komaeda understands. Perhaps he feels it, too. A hand rests tenderly in spiky brown hair, gliding down to rest on a warm cheek. He holds Hajime close once more, tucking the other’s head under his chin. 

There’s an immeasurable sense of comfort in being able to feel and to hear Nagito’s heart beating. Alive, not dead. Real, not a simulation. His arms find their way around him in return, gripping tightly. He never wants to let go again. He never wants to lose his friends again. He shoves back a cold voice inside of him that tells him these feelings are weak. 

“You know, tough as it is, we all move forward. Don’t we? In a way, it’s almost cruel. We have to keep breathing without them. It feels unfair. But to give up would be to do them a disservice, right? There isn’t any hope in that.” Komaeda’s words come from a place that feels personal, but they bring Hinata a sense of comfort all the same. 

The silence is comfortable, like a blanket to Komaeda. In silence, they can understand one another; in silence, they almost feel like equals. However, the lack of input that leaves Hinata alone with his thoughts is suffocating to him. 

“You’re right,” he finally chimes in. His voice cracks under strain of the tears he’d shed before, but he doesn’t let it bring him shame. Komaeda continues to hold him from his side, arm over his shoulders. He nods in response. 

“Doesn’t it ache, Hajime? You feel it, I know. You wish it were you, don’t you? You wish you could have given your life for hers. Then…” there’s an awkwardly long pause as Komaeda composes himself, “...then this burden wouldn’t be yours. It’s a selfish thought, but you have it, don’t you?” 

“What are you getting at?” Hinata snaps his eyes back up at Komaeda’s face, glaring. He doesn’t want to admit his words are like a knife carving him up from the inside out. He doesn’t need to speak. Nagito knows.

“It’s so loathsome, to wish pain on others. We lie to ourselves under the guise that it’s noble. Hopeful, even. But it isn’t, is it? And it hurts, doesn’t it? I know that sting. I understand how you’re feeling.” He sighs through his nose, the warm breath caressing Hajime’s cheek and hair. 

“I guess you’re right. It does ache. And I would give anything to bring her back, up to and including myself. But I can’t. She’s gone. It’s over, it’s all over.” The tears are back, “and here I am bemoaning my own pain, my own problems. I’m a coward! I’m weak!” 

“Shhh, Hajime… listen to yourself. It’s so easy to tear yourself apart for it, but these feelings, they’re human aren’t they? We all have them.” 

“I suppose. I’m a little surprised you’re so willing to talk to me when I’m consumed by despair like this, you know. Not befitting of the symbol of hope.” There’s a touch of sarcasm in the way he speaks. Komaeda won’t admit it stings a little, but he doesn’t back down or turn away.

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, despair is nothing more than a stepping stone for hope. The greater the despair, the more hope can be born from it. We both know that, but you’re choosing not to see it.”

“You think I’m choosing to feel like this!?” 

“No, no. That isn’t what I mean at all. Sorry, I’m not the best with words sometimes.” Nagito chuckles anxiously, arm slipping off Hajime’s shoulder so he can grip at it with his prosthetic. Hajime turns to him, already missing the contact. He takes his arms in both of his hands and puts them both back around himself. Nagito can’t help but be surprised when he looks up to see the other smiling through his tears. 

“You know, I’m proud of you, Nagito. In just a short time, you’ve come a long way haven’t you?” He’s apparently found his positivity again. As if nature itself knows his feelings, the sun emerges from behind the clouds, pouring in through the window and illuminating the room in a sea of sparkles. Both men turn to look, noticing the light refracting from a small, glass figurine on the windowsill. It only distracts them both for a moment. Komaeda is the first to return to the former subject.

“What do you mean, Hajime?” 

“I mean that you’ve come a long way. Think about it. You comforted me by your own free will and you didn’t get worked up or… weird.” 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Nagito laughs softly. “I know you’re changing the subject on purpose, but it’s alright.” 

“Don’t ruin the moment, Komaeda.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You’re right about how I was feeling, but we don’t have to feel guilty for going on without them. We don’t have to hate ourselves for-- no, you don’t have to hate yourself for this anymore.” Hajime looks Nagito in the eyes as he says that last bit.

“What?” Nagito is left as breathless as he is speechless. 

“I know what you were getting at. You blame yourself, right? For their deaths?” He doesn’t need to elaborate for Komaeda to know exactly what he means. He nods quietly, keeping a perfectly straight face and calm demeanor, even if it’s forced. 

“You’re not wrong.” 

“I know I’m not wrong, but it’s not your fault. Just like Chiaki wasn’t my fault. Yes, I exposed her. Yes, I could have chosen to die instead, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She was already gone. I’m not going to beat myself up over it and you shouldn’t, either. Come on, let’s leave the guilt behind and start over. You and me. What do you say?” 

“Hajime, I…” Komaeda’s hesitation and genuine expression of joy are uncommon, but not unwanted. Hajime pulls him closer, hands cupping his face on either side as he looks him in the eyes. 

Before either of them can process what’s happening, they’ve closed the gap between them, lips pressed together. The gesture isn’t as romantic as either of them had hoped, but it isn’t unpleasant. They remain that way for entirely too long before they finally part. 

“Is that your answer?” 

“Yeah, yeah I think it is.” 

“Good. Now that all that doom and gloom is out of the way, what was it you needed from me?”


End file.
